


Old Friend, Come Back Home

by in48frames



Category: Bomb Girls
Genre: F/F, Ten Years Later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-03-20
Packaged: 2017-11-29 20:14:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/in48frames/pseuds/in48frames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten years on, Kate turns up on the doorstep of Betty's tiny dream house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Once the house is in sight, Kate's gait slows to a series of staccato, halting steps. It's a miracle she doesn't pull a neat about-face and [sprint](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9026764/1/Old-Friend-Come-back-Home) in the opposite direction, but miracle or curse, she finds herself at the gate. There's a woman on her knees tending the garden, and it isn't until she looks up that her sunhat reveals Betty's face.

Kate freezes.

Holding a hand up to block the sun, Betty says a friendly, "Hello!" After a moment passes with no reply, Betty drops her hand and gets to her feet, takes a step closer, then squints. Her mouth opens, ready to speak, then closes again as she swallows. Trying again, she says, "Kate?"

Hands resting on the peaks of the white picket fence, Kate nods. Her mind is busy cataloguing as her eyes take in everything about Betty: her men's [work](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9026764/1/Old-Friend-Come-back-Home) clothes, soil at the knees and waist; the no-nonsense straw hat shielding her from the sun; her sturdy gardening gloves, trowel in one hand. And the way her cheeks glow from the warmth of the summer afternoon, the way the sun glints gold off her blonde hair.

Taking another step forward, Betty cocks her head, hardly blinking. "I wasn't sure I'd ever see you again."

Ten years it's been, since the war ended. Ten years since the day Kate was sure she would finally be able to find her own, perfect, normal little life. Ten years since she said a firm goodbye to her friend Betty McRae.

All Kate can do is nod.

"Well…" Betty tugs off her gloves, slapping them against her pants and holding them in one hand; never taking her eyes off Kate. "It's hot as the dickens out here, so I [guess](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9026764/1/Old-Friend-Come-back-Home) we'd better go inside. That is… I hope you'll come in?"

Kate nods again, looks down and fumbles the catch on the gate. Betty is there in a flash, but her hands are careful not to touch Kate's. She pulls the gate open, toward herself, and Kate ducks her head and walks by, blushing.

After closing the gate, Betty jogs to the front door, pushing it open and letting Kate [enter](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9026764/1/Old-Friend-Come-back-Home) ahead of her. From inside the house a female voice calls, "Betty?" and Betty calls back, "Yes, it's me. I'll come to you in just a minute." Offering a confused smile, Betty leads Kate into the living room, getting her settled on the settee and saying, "I'll fetch us some refreshments, don't you move."

She strides out of the room and soon Kate hears a bright, "There you are!" followed by much softer murmuring. Kate twists around on the couch, feeling awkward, and says, "Oh, dear." She's amazed she's even gotten this far after months of dithering, but now pulling a runner is starting to seem like her best option. She stands up and takes a few steps across the small room, then turns and walks back.

Betty returns before she gets much farther, and Kate turns toward her, hands twisting around one another. Betty is carrying a tray bearing glasses which she places on the coffee table, a game and curious expression on her face.

"Should I not have come? I feel like I shouldn't have come."

Sitting on the couch, Betty lays her hands in her lap and looks up at Kate. "I'd say that depends on the reason for the visit."

"That's just it," Kate says, sitting down again. Betty's face is inscrutable except for a narrowing of the eyes. Kate wrings her hands again and casts about. "Your friend…?"

Betty smiles and this time it looks real, like a reflex. "Lucy. I'm afraid she's busy in the kitchen and can't come say hello just yet, but she will. I'd like for you to meet her."

"Gladys told me you had… a roommate."

At that Betty's fingers twitch, only just enough to notice, and Kate's eyes drop. There is a ring – not gold, not on her left hand, not on her ring finger. Kate can't look away from it.

Turning the ring gently with her other hand, Betty says, "It isn't legal, of course. But to us, it's real."

Kate springs off the couch at that point and twists in the centre of the room like a leaf caught in a mini cyclone. She walks to the wall and quickly passes over the art, the doilies, the knick knacks. She doesn't actually see anything but says, voice pitched high, "It's a lovely house!"

From her seat Betty follows Kate around the room, a frown beginning to furrow her brow. When Kate begins to pick things up and put them down again, knocking them against one another with shaking hands, Betty says sharply, "Kate," and once she has her attention, more softly, "Please come sit down and tell me what this is all about."

She does sit, and reaches into her bag, pulling out a compact, which she then turns in her hands. At first she watches it, then raises her eyes to Betty. "I got your address from Gladys. She told me you'd bought the house you'd always dreamed of. That you had a good job, working with your hands, a wonder that only you could pull off. That's what she said – only Betty." Kate nods slowly; Betty only listens.

"She told me, so many times, of course. To call you, to see you for a visit. She said you had—that you were living—" One shoulder rises in a shrug. "I knew I could only do this once. I shouldn't even be doing it at all, I know that, and I pray you'll forgive me."

Betty still watches in silence, only the pucker between her brows hinting at her thoughts.

Kate turns the compact over once more and then opens it, removing a folded piece of paper and holding it up between two fingers. "I've been carrying this around for six months. I knew I could only do this once." She stares at the paper for a moment, curls her fingers toward her palm, then holds the slip out to Betty, who takes it and looks questioningly to Kate. _Are you sure?_ Kate nods.

Slowly, delicately, Betty unfolds the paper and smoothes it out on her lap. Kate watches her read it, knowing the words written there by heart: _I am still in love with you._ She doesn't hold her breath, and her heart doesn't stop; she has come into this with a 99% certainty that it will not end well for her, and that she has to do it anyway.

Betty's fingers glide over the paper, tracing the words. Pressing her palm on top of it, she closes her eyes and bows her head.

When the silence stretches on long enough that Kate fears she might explode, she says, "You did more for me before I was even truly alive than anyone else has ever done for me. I am not here to ask of you. I am sorry that I came here and I will leave as soon as you say. I had to do something and now I've done it; that's all."

When the silence continues, Kate says desperately, "I'm sorry—" but Betty puts her hand up and smiles, a wan, resigned smile.

"Kate, the last thing I'd do would be to condemn you for telling the truth. I want—I would very much like to have you in my life again, as a friend. Is that on the table?"

Kate huffs a sigh of relief, tinged by tears. "Can we? Not—not like the old days, but the old characters in a new light? That would make me very happy."

Betty smiles, nods, soft eyes resting on Kate's face. She hesitates before saying, "If it's not too soon, would you meet Lucy? She knows you're here, and…" Kate draws in a giant breath and Betty hurries to add, "But I'm sure we could do it any other time, if you would prefer."

Holding up a finger, Kate closes her eyes and breathes deeply, attempting to centre herself. After a moment, when the ache in her eyes has lessened and she feels steadier, she looks to Betty and smiles, as serenely as she is capable of.

"I would love to meet her."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't realize this would be a multi-chaptered thing, but it appears to be so. See you in a bit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this isn't the story most of you are wanting to read right now. I hope you like it anyhow.

"I sent away for every small town newspaper I could find an address for," Kate says, facing Betty on the couch. Each has one arm up on the back, one leg tucked underneath her; a cock-eyed mirror image.

"Some women were returning home; the girls from the factories had a taste for the city and weren't so keen on leaving. Myself, I thought I could use a little more space and a bit of a slower pace."

A couple of hours before, Lucy had introduced herself with a warm smile and a firm handshake that Kate tried to [return](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9026764/2/Old-Friend-Come-back-Home) in kind; tried not to shrink into herself.

"The ads were plentiful but not all that diverse. No real surprise there. Typists, receptionists, nurses… teachers."

Lucy was tall, or maybe she just carried herself that way. She smiled so serenely, seemed so comfortable in her skin; Kate couldn't help but feel intimidated. Even Lucy's bold facial features, which could have been unfortunate on someone else, suited her well.

"I did help raise my brothers. I thought that might have put me off children forever, but I helped out in Leon's Sunday School sometimes, and oh…"

The dress Lucy wore, on her way out to the Ladies' Auxiliary meeting, was subtle but very stylish. Kate was mostly focusing on things she could see and name, because she didn't really yet know how to [deal](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9026764/2/Old-Friend-Come-back-Home) with the way the two women looked at one another, their easy physicality. She hadn't been there to see Betty change.

"The war babies were just reaching school age, and I fell in love so quickly. It's a small town, a tiny school; a simple life."

Betty has been listening attentively, leaning her head on her hand. "A normal life?"

A trace of a smile on Kate's lips. "That was what I wanted, wasn't it? I'm thirty-four; officially a spinster, though not yet beyond hope. I rent a room from an older couple whose own child has left the nest. It's no VicMu." She hesitates before saying, "There's no one like you, that's for sure. Not a Gladys or a Vera in the bunch. Oh, they're nice enough. They're good people. But we had something special there at VicMu, didn't we?" For a moment they look straight into each other's eyes, Kate thinking, _We had something special; you and I._

Finally Betty smiles and nods, keeping her head low. After a moment she clears her throat and says, "Have you prospects in that small town? Will you stay?"

Kate stares for a moment, gaze level. "I could be happy there, happy enough. Teach until I'm old and [wrinkled](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9026764/2/Old-Friend-Come-back-Home), call one after-school drink at the only bar in town every other Friday my social life.

"No, I don't think I'll stay. I miss you; I miss Gladys. I miss having a family. I don't know where I'd live, but surely there are more options near the city. Maybe I could find a roommate…"

"I know of a few bulletin boards," Betty says, lifting her chin, and Kate smiles gratefully. Glancing past her at the clock on the mantelpiece, Betty says, "Are you hungry? It's just about dinner time."

"If you don't mind the company," Kate says, cocking her head and smiling a smile that is just slightly cheeky.

"Never," Betty replies without hesitation, smiling back as she gets up to head to the kitchen. Kate takes a second to sigh out the emotion conjured in her breast by that response, then follows Betty down the short, dim hallway. Over her shoulder Betty tosses back, "I usually stick to cold sandwiches when Lucy's out for the night. Will that do?"

Kate says, "Certainly," as Betty goes to the refrigerator and Kate pulls a chair out from the table and sits facing Betty. She still sits primly, knees together, hands folded in her lap, spine straight. Since their drinks are already poured and Betty is more than capable of making a couple cold sandwiches, Kate just sits and watches.

After donning an apron (a solid green, contrasting sharply with the other apron hanging on the cupboard door: flowers everywhere) Betty pulls a roast from the refrigerator and sets to slicing the meat thinly and stacking it on white bread. She adds a leaf of lettuce to each, then holds a jar of mayonnaise up for Kate's approval, which she gives.

Soon enough Betty brings over the plates and sits on the other side of her tiny kitchen table. She hasn't removed her apron and Kate can't help smirking. (Of course, Kate's version of a smirk is pursing her lips together against a smile, affection in her eyes. Yes, the use of the word 'smirk' is generous.)

"What?"

"You've gotten quite domestic on me.

"Wait 'til you hear this, then: I've quit smoking."

Kate mimes a gasp, covering her mouth with her hand. "And? How's that?"

"The withdrawal was hell, but I admit I don't find a flight of stairs quite as daunting anymore."

Smiling at Betty over her sandwich, Kate says, "I'm happy for you."

"You've got—" Betty reaches out, almost makes contact, then stands, flustered, and fetches a paper towel. "Just a little mayo. I should have had these out anyway. That'll show you for calling me domestic." She's babbling, circling the room, and Kate has to say, "Betty, sit back down. It's fine."

She does so, looking crestfallen, and Kate casts about for a topic of conversation. Unfortunately the best she can come up with is: "How did you meet Lucy?" Frowning, Betty looks away in consternation, and Kate laughs gently. "Betty, I told you, I'm moving home. It won't do me any good to dwell on a past long gone. Please, don't guard yourself for me."

Looking back, Betty's eyes are sad. "I know you're strong. I just don't want to cause any more pain than necessary – for you _or_ me." She looks down at her lap.

Kate takes a breath. "Are you happy I'm here? Should I go?" Betty takes a long moment to answer and now, yes, now Kate is waiting on tenterhooks. If she can't even have Betty as a friend—If she can't move home—She's gotten her hopes up now—

Folded on the table are Kate's hands—she leans forward over them without any intention—she needs to hear—

Betty sets her palms flat on the table and slides them forward to frame Kate's. For a beat she leaves them there, inches from Kate's on either side, and then she moves them out to the sides to grip the edges of the table.

Speaking to the table-top, Betty begins, "It really isn't much of a story…"


	3. Chapter 3

“She came into the shop when I was on the floor and the boss was in the back. I guess she made an assumption about a girl in a mechanic’s getup…”

Betty’s joking (weakly) but Kate stops her to say, “Do people? Make assumptions?”

“Sure,” Betty says, still looking at the tabletop. “You learn to read people and sometimes you make different choices. My boss, he told me that he’d have me as a worker as long as I was good, but sometimes a guy won’t listen to a woman about his car, wants to talk to a ‘real mechanic.’ I would’ve made a fuss about that once upon a time, but now we stay mostly under the radar. At the grocery store, the owner loves us but her nephew curses at us in Hebrew. We don’t go in when he’s working. When there’s an option, we take it. I hope there’s never a day with no option.”

Kate is gaping slightly across the table when Betty looks up past her eyebrows. They make eye contact and Kate closes her mouth. Betty shrugs one shoulder and Kate nods, smiling slightly.

“It’s worth it,” Kate says, only the barest hint of a question mark on the end.

“That’s right.” Then Betty cocks her head, sitting up straighter in her chair, and says, “What about you? You must have done some dating in that small town of yours.”

“Oh sure,” Kate says, throwing her head back and laughing like a girl in a Coke commercial. The performance comes automatically, and when Kate remembers it’s just Betty she looks down sheepishly. “The older ladies at the church are always setting me up with their grandsons, ‘such nice boys for the most eligible bachelorette in town,’” and now the laugh is both clearly fake and vaguely hysterical.

“A couple of them have been good for a month or so of dinners and dances, but I guess I haven’t found ‘the one’ yet.” The last words stumble out of her mouth and she freezes, takes a breath, then rolls her eyes. “That’s what I tell the ladies, anyway. They tell me I’m the sort of girl who takes her time, which I guess is better than picky.” _Or homosexual_ goes unsaid.

Leaning back in her chair, Betty has one hand on the table, finger tapping slowly as she watches Kate. She doesn’t speak, and Kate feels judgments rolling off of her in waves – Kate’s own judgments, she knows, cast off on Betty to confirm her worst fears. But Betty doesn’t reply; she stands and begins to clear the table, saying, “Won’t you give me a hand?” with a charming smile. She indicates the other apron as she begins to fill the sink, and Kate approaches it with trepidation.

As she slips the halter over her head, she can smell this stranger who lives in a two-apron household with Betty McRae, and it makes her feel at once more and less like herself. She’s not sure which she’d prefer, to tell the truth.

For a moment as she joins Betty at the sink, accepting wet dishes from her gloved hand and drying them with a soft cloth, Kate loses herself in the easy domesticity of the scene. In the slanting rays of the sunset through the window over the sink, she sees herself as another Kate, one who kissed Betty back because Leon was the only one watching and he would understand. One who didn’t run away at the end of the war, didn’t start a whole new Betty-less life just to see if she could.

At the sink she is this steady Kate, in the steady rhythm of wash, dry, shelve, and she begins to hum. Betty looks up with a surprised smile and Kate ducks her head and carries on, smiling too.

The final dish is a creamer and Kate, caught up in the rhythm of movement, hesitates with her hand raised, unsure where to place the dish in the cupboard. Betty, having just removed her rubber gloves, places one hand on Kate’s back as she reaches past her, taking the creamer and setting it on a shelf. She over-balances slightly and Kate, having half-turned at the touch, twists and catches Betty’s waist before she can stumble. There was no thought in the movement and there’s none in the next, when she closes the microscopic gap between them and kisses Betty.

* * *

 

It’s all of an instant before Kate is turning and ducking her blazing red face down and away. Betty’s hands have landed on the counter to either side so she can’t actually get away, but she’s practically scaling the counter in her efforts.

Betty steps back, releasing her, and Kate’s hands go to her hair as she crosses the room. She turns back toward Betty and then walks into the living room. Trailing behind, Betty can hear her muttering something about a purse and her compact. Kate crouches by the couch and Betty leans in the doorway, wondering what to say.

“Off so soon?” Betty cringes and shakes her head as soon as the words leave her mouth. It’s pitch dark now and Kate probably should have left an hour ago, besides which…

Kate drops her compact back into her clutch purse and snaps it closed. She runs her hand over the seat of the couch (Betty can feel the corner of that slip of paper poking her through her pants and wonders if Kate is looking for it) and then stands. She looks at the floor, knuckles white around the clasp of her purse, and opens her mouth—then crosses to the front door in two strides and fumbles with the lock.

“Kate, hang on.”

Focused on the deadbolt Kate can bring herself to say, “I’ve forgotten all my manners but you’ll have to forgive me, I really must go,” and the lock opens and she’s out the door and halfway to the gate by the time Betty catches the door hanging open.

“I’ll phone Gladys,” Betty calls out behind Kate, who puts up one hand in a half-hearted wave as she works the gate with the other. “We’ll get drinks!” It sounds a lot more like a threat than Betty intended, but as Kate hurries off down the sidewalk with her face tilted toward the street, she shrugs and closes and locks the door.

Heading back toward the kitchen to finish cleaning up, Betty doesn’t notice until she’s hanging up her apron that the other hook is empty, which means Kate wore Lucy’s apron out onto the street. She laughs, wrapping her hand around the empty hook and hanging her head. They’ll get drinks and Kate will return the apron, probably neatly tucked away in some superfluous symbol of politesse. And Betty will find a way to convince her that they can be friends. This was just a false start.

Yawning, Betty walks to the bedroom, deliberating whether to stay up and tell Lucy all tonight, or let things lie and get an extra hour or two of sleep. She undresses in front of the mirror and wonders what it could possibly be about her that would make a girl like Kate hold on to the idea of loving her for ten… fifteen… who knows how many years. Though she knows her actual body has little to nothing to do with it, it’s the only thing she can stare at, so she does, for just a moment. Slipping into her usual men’s pyjamas and wrapping a scarf around her hair, she smiles in collusion with her reflection before turning away.

On the pad of paper by the bed she draws two stick figures kissing and scribbles curls on each round head. To the side she writes ‘L + B’, surrounds it with a heart, and draws the tree upon which it is carved. In the corner she writes ‘xo B’ and then goes to bed.

In the midst of sleep there’s a soft kiss on the shoulder and arms that hold her like home; a whole-body sigh and deeper into dreamless peace.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Call this an interlude. The story is motoring along so you won't have long to wait. Thank you to everyone who is reading!

"It's for you, love, Wife #2 again."

"Betty dear, will you tell your _one and only_ wife that until there is a second wedding band on my finger I will be referred to only as Mistress #1."

"Hear that?"

"Yes, well, I'd better update the address book then and leave you to your phone call."

"All right Princess, how's the prodigal today?

"What did you do to her? She's been in a panic all morning."

"Oh, she's just adjusting. Tell her to stop worrying so much. Drinks tonight?"

"Yes, of course. For three?"

"Yes, and be sure to tell Kate that. I believe she may be in fear of Lucy."

"To be fair, Lucy does have her moments."

"She'll love her once she gets to know her. Go on then, keep her sane until evening."

"Love to the family."

"Mutual."


	5. Chapter 5

Betty walks into the Continental Bar in one of her middle-of-the-road dresses. She doesn't have all that many to start with, so she makes sure she has at least one casual, one formal, and one in-between. She quite likes this one, but it is unmistakeably middle.

As soon as she's cleared the foyer, she spots Kate and Gladys seated at the bar. Gladys has her back to the counter, watching the room, while Kate sits hunched over her drink, eye trained on the door. The second she sees Betty, Kate is up like a shot, putting a hand on Gladys's arm before rushing over to Betty and dragging her into a corner.

"Take it easy, Kate, you're bound to give someone the wrong impression," Betty says with some swagger in it, smirking around the room.

Kate starts like a rabbit, looking about frantically and putting physical distance between them, crossing her arms and turning her body slightly away. It would all look a lot more genuine if the entire transition didn't take all of a quarter-second.

Betty sighs. "I was joking, Kate. No one here gives a fig, that's why we like it."

"I'm not really in the joking mood—"

"I know, and I apologize. That was a strategic error on my part."

There's still a mote of teasing there but Kate ignores it entirely, shifting on her feet and saying, "We need to talk."

"I have an idea what you might want to say, but have at it."

It all comes out in a rush; like revealing her feelings opened some stopper inside of her and now she can't hold it as closely as she used to do. "I'm so sorry, I betrayed your trust and I betrayed Lucy's trust and she's going to hate me now and we've only just met and she won't let us be friends and then I can't even move home and—"

"Whoa," Betty says, reaching out to hold Kate still by the shoulders in a firm grip that no one could ever misconstrue as romantic. "First of all, take a breath." She stops and watches with one eyebrow up until Kate, rolling her eyes, opens her mouth and takes a gulp of air. "Second of all…" Betty looks around for an empty table and pulls Kate there by the wrist. She spots Gladys again across the room, waves, and shrugs. Gladys makes the OK sign with her hand and motions her on.

Placing Kate upon a chair, Betty sits down across the table from her and smiles, making sure her face looks calm and cheerful. "Now, Kate, tell me: is what you said yesterday true? About wanting to be friends?"

Kate puts her hands on the table and leans forward over them, saying, "Yes, of course! I wouldn't lie to you. It was just a mistake. Just the stupidest—"

Betty holds up a hand to stop her, gentling it with a smile. "Kate. If you want to be friends, we're friends. Don't worry so much about a little kiss. Not that we're going to do it again, um, but such a thing is understandable when you seem to have feelings for someone. I mean, I…" She gestures. "You know, I've done similar. Sometimes you just have to kiss a person. And don't worry about Lucy! She knows our history and she… Well… It was a very small kiss. Just don't even think about it."

Kate listens with her most inscrutable expression, then says, "What's this 'seem to'?"

"Permission to speak freely?"

Kate smirks (Kate's idea of a smirk already having been discussed) and gestures for her to go on.

"I wouldn't dare to tell you how you feel, or what might be going on in your head, but I think there is a possibility that a person in your position, who might be dating multiple, uh, men…"

Betty trails off and Kate looks at her quite incredulously.

"These words are not coming out right." She reaches into the pocket of her dress and pulls out a folded piece of paper, which she reads. "Okay, so there's this thing called transference, and it's possible that since you were dating men, you transferred your frustrated—uh—your frustration—that is—it's possible you think you love me because you dated so many men?"

Betty looks up from the paper with panic in her eyes, and Kate gives her the evil eye for about half a second before bursting into laughter.

"Where did you get that from? And did you mean to call me a loose woman, because I'm pretty sure you did."

"Lucy has an interest in psychology and is always reading Freud – never do that, by the way, it's filthy – and she told me she knew just the answer to your troubles. She was more sure of it than I, but anyway… does it make any sense to you?"

"This is assuming I'm…" Kate looks around and whispers, "A homosexual."

Betty nods, confused.

"I've been working under the idea that you were, ah, the exception to the rule, as it were."

"A-ha," Betty says, leaning back in her chair and watching Kate for a moment. "And look how well it's going! No offence intended, but that sounds like utter codswallop to me." Kate shrugs; hard to take offence at this point. "The only way to be sure, of course…" Betty says with a sly smile, and Kate is clever enough to see where this is going. She starts to twist in her chair, looking for Gladys and her escape.

"Now, now, none of that, Kate. You want us to be friends, right?"

Kate leans over the table again, absolutely refusing to speak up, despite the urgency in her voice. "I just don't think I'm brave like you, Betty. It's one thing to—have feelings for someone, someone not…"

"Proving my point. Being in love with me is less scary than dancing with a strange girl, right?"

After a second Kate looks at the ceiling and sighs. " _Telling you_ was not all that easy, but you're right when it comes to living in Small Town, Ontario. I can't just suddenly shack up with—"

"Well, hold your horses, cowgirl. First you meet a girl. If it goes well, you eat dinner together. The shacking up comes later. In your case, hopefully _much_ later." Kate nods, eyes wide. "Anyway, Small Town Ontario can shove it. You're moving home and you'll be here with us."

"Still though, Betty, I'm not brave. I can't… tell someone I'm a _homosexual_ ," stage-whispered with utmost dramatics, "let alone go on a date with a girl. It's all just too much!"

As Kate fidgets with her hands, looks around nervously, and tucks her hair behind her ear, Betty watches and comments dryly, "Don't tell me you're about to have an attack of the vapours, because we just don't have the time for that. We're so many years behind already…

"Now, let's see. I taught you to flirt with boys once, and that was brilliant!" (Betty is embroidering history slightly.) "For a time, anyway. _Surely_ I can teach you how to flirt with girls."

Kate shifts in her seat, rubs her arm, and says, "Can we at least bring Gladys in on this?"

Betty says, "Capital idea!" around the 'thinking smoke' she's currently trying to light. "I'll find the princess – probably on the dance floor by now, or lord help us, and you pick up some drinks for us at the bar. I'll run out of hands faster, y'see." (She gives up on the smoke once her match won't light and she remembers that she quit something like five years ago. She mostly just likes to get other people to buy rounds. Who could blame her.)

(As for why she even carries a pack of smokes and a book of matches—sometimes a girl just needs a prop.)


	6. Chapter 6

When they reassemble at the table, Betty says to Gladys, "Ask Kate what's new."

Smiling agreeably, already a bit tipsy, Gladys cocks her head and says, "What's new, Kate?"

Kate cradles her drink, staring down into it, and shakes her head.

"Can I tell her?" and Betty is a little too excited about this.

"You're not being very sensitive, Betty," Kate grumbles, which Betty takes for a yes.

"Kate…" and Betty allows a space for Kate to jump in if necessary. "Needs to learn how to flirt!"

"Oh, I thought Marco took care of that ages ago!" Gladys leans in to Kate, asking teasingly, "Didn't you tell me about that nice professor you were seeing at the university?"

Kate blushes and darts a quick glance at Betty.

Betty raises an eyebrow and says, "Well, see, _now_ …" She allows another pause for possible interruption. "She needs to flirt with girls!" Betty grins hugely and makes a little 'ta-da!' gesture with her hands.

Gladys does not react at all, but to say, "Is there really a difference?"

Annoyed at having her big moment deflated, Betty mutters, "You should know," and Gladys shrugs as she lights a cigarette.

Now Kate is flabbergasted. "You, Gladys? Girls?"

"Sure. I was single a time, you know. I kissed a girl or two, ruffled a few skirts. I think I earned it!"

"But you never told me!"

Gladys puts a comforting hand on Kate's arm. "Oh, Kate, it's not like that. You're the one I call to talk about boys!"

Kate turns grimly to the dance floor. "Well, that's about to change."

"If that's the case, I'll have to find some more conventional married friends. What a drag."

"Aw, Princess, you can always call me with your man troubles. I'll listen quietly and then tell you you brought it upon yourself by marrying a man." Betty and Gladys giggle with their heads together, the buzz of the drinks starting to go to their brains. When Kate turns back to the table and slams her hands down, they sober up quickly.

"All right girls, this is serious. What in the heck" (she covers her mouth and muffles the curse) "am I going to do? Where do I start? Are you _sure_ this is a good idea? This is a bad idea."

Keeping her face professor-serious, Betty says, "As I see it, you have two options. Choice a) is go back to Small Town Ontario and marry a nice old lady's grandson and _pine_ over me for all eternity," with the appropriate sarcastically swoony tone and an eye roll. "Or, you can stop pretending I'm the exception—" Gladys is starting to look very confused. "—and give in to the fact that women are where the love is at and men are a ridiculous waste of time." Now Gladys looks offended. "This is not about you, Princess, this is about our Kate's future!"

They burst into giggles again and it's clear that no one has actually sobered up, nor will they any time soon. But they have a mission, and darned if they won't follow through on it.

As they're giggling, Gladys says into Betty's ear, "No but really, what?" and Betty replies, "Ask her yourself!"

Kate doesn't mind her friends' giggles, but she is still a bundle of nerves, practically sitting on her hands by this point. Betty has the bright idea that they should all (have another drink and then) go out on the dance floor together, just a handful of friends out on the town! And then Betty and Gladys will pay a bit more attention to each other and hopefully someone else will go after Kate. Anyway, no one would be alone out there.

Kate with her lovely hair and lovely face and lovely dress of course is not hung out to dry (with as much help as hastily whispered coaching to "look like you're having a nice time, but like you _could_ be having a _nicer_ time—and for God's sake, smile!" can be), and a slim woman with dark hair is soon taking an interest in our shy redhead.

Trying to give their protégé space and looking just a touch too genuine, Betty and Gladys are swaying cheek-to-cheek as a slow song plays when Betty notices that Kate is no longer at their side. She mumbles in Gladys's ear, "Did we just score?"

Gladys, _obviously_ , slides her hand down a little lower and pats Betty's bum, saying, "I know I did."

Pushing her away by the shoulders, Betty says, "Saucy!" at the top of her lungs, and then they stumble back to the table with their arms around each other, laughing all the way. Five minutes later, Kate rushes up to the table and sits down with her back to the dance floor, leaning toward her friends.

She's flushed and her eyes are wide as she says, "She kissed me!" Betty and Gladys cheer and clink glasses and Kate says, "On the mouth!"

"Good lord, I hope so!" Betty replies. "You've only just met!"

Kate looks horrified and shocked and pleased and terrified all at once, and they decide to have one more drink before calling it a night.


	7. Chapter 7

They end up back at Gladys's humble abode—it really isn't bad, but yes, her husband is a magnate of some sort. Money begets money, sometimes, but Gladys will tell you gladly she married him for the freedom. He loves to call her a spitfire and contribute to her feminist causes, yet somehow manages to not be condescending about it. He's mildly amused by her, yes, but who isn't? He and Betty get along famously.

The husband is asleep when they get to the house and the girls stay up whispering in the living room as long as they possibly can, like they're still girls after all. Gladys asks Kate to please fill her in because she is dying of curiosity, and Kate says, "Try and guess why I would need to speak to Betty alone… and why she would be trying to set me up with other women."

"Well, I didn't want to assume." Then there's an awkward pause, like Gladys didn't really think this through. "You're… still going to move home, right?"

Kate smiles. "Definitely."

Gladys drunkenly calls out "Hooray!" and raises her glass as the other two shush her.

They're sipping at a bottle from the house collection, taking this one slowlyand alternating with water. Still, Gladys passes out on the chaise longue, and Betty and Kate are alone: tongues finally loosened enough to speak.

"Do you ever wonder? I mean, now. Do you think about what, if I hadn't, if we had—?"

They are facing each other on the couch, molded to the cushions as their alcohol-heavy muscles pull them toward the ground, heads supported by cushions.

"Sure, of course," Betty says around her thick tongue. "But not often. It wouldn't be fair to Lucy, and anyway I am so-o-o happy." She is drawling and slurring at once and the words come out long and slow. Her eyes close on the last words, though whether it's to savour them or to avoid Kate's reaction is anyone's guess.

But Kate just nods in drunken pensiveness. "Yes, I think that's really it. If I were in a different position I wouldn't—I mean, not as seriously." Kate is enunciating very clearly, but having trouble getting the words out.

"I know, and I'm sorry, Kate," Betty says as earnestly as she can—which is very, at the moment. "I'm sorry it's like this for you. If I could just find you the perfect girl and make all the waiting and trying go away, I would. But we'll be here alongside you the entire time and we'll never let you be alone."

"I'm so grateful for you, I am," Kate replies, equally earnest. "But I think I'm going to have to be sad for a little while."

"Sad here?"

"Yes, I think I have to be sad here. Get used to you and Lucy, Gladys and, um—" Serious as they are, Kate cannot quite remember the name of Gladys's husband and they dissolve into giggles that involve a few tears. "But if you'd rather, I can stay in my small town a little longer, wait out some of the sadness there."

"No!" and Betty grabs at Kate's arm. "You belong here with us. We'll make it all work. And you'll like Lucy, you will. I don't know if that will help or hurt."

"Oh Betty," and Kate still has some tears in her eyes. "I do so want you to be happy. It will do me good to see you happy with your Lucy. And I'll find someone like that too… right? Someday?"

Betty takes Kate's hand. "I'm sure of it, Kate. I bet you broke a hundred young men's hearts out there in that one-bar town. You're the same Kate, you'll be breaking the girl's hearts before you know it!"

Laughing tearfully, Kate says, "I can't really believe I'm going to do this. Not really be a person who dates women. But I guess fifteen years of dating men is enough of a good-faith try, huh? I did try," and now she's just crying. Betty wraps her arms around her and they sit huddled together on the couch.

"You've had a hard life, Kate Andrews," Betty says softly. "I hope it gets a whole lot easier now. Just think of all the secrets you won't be keeping."

Kate leans back, inhales deeply, and lets her shoulders fall as she exhales. "I feel lighter already. And I love you, Betty. Even just as a friend." Despite the haze of alcohol, her eyes meet Betty's sharply.

"I love you, too, Kate. Even just as a friend. Even after loving you for… I can't even count the years anymore. I'm so glad you're coming home."

They fall asleep there, sitting up in the middle of the couch, huddled together. In the morning they'll be confused and sore, but they'll feel like they cleansed some deep part of their souls. A little lighter, a little truer, and with a kind of comfort they've never felt before. Almost like things are becoming right.

(Could it have been right in another way? Of course it could have. Could Betty and Kate have made it work from the start? Well, no. Not realistically. At the end of the war? Still probably no. Ten years later, after they'd lived lives apart and finally figured out exactly who they were and what they wanted? Kate had thought so; she'd thought, if there's a one percent chance that we can make it work, I have to try.

But Betty has Lucy, and it isn't even that Kate isn't a homewrecker or an adulterer; those are both true, but her only consideration is—Betty is so happy. And sometimes it hurts more than she can bear, Betty being so happy without her. But she has learned to be kind to herself, or rather she is in the process of learning that.

Because she is not willing to sacrifice Betty's friendship, being kind to herself means allowing herself to be sad when she's sad, actively trying to move on, but also allowing herself to be stuck when she is stuck.

Loving is easy; transitioning from one form of love to another, or from two types to just one, can be excruciating.

Kate's only been in love once in her life. She is at the start of a long journey.)


	8. Chapter 8

On the last evening of Kate's week-long holiday, Betty and Lucy host a dinner party. Their cozy dining room—separated from the kitchen by a swinging door and from the living room by nothing more than a load-bearing beam—seats six most comfortably, so it's a ladies-only night. What that really means is no-partners-allowed, for everyone other than Betty and Lucy. Since they're hosting, that seems fair.

Gladys and Kate arrive together and first of the guests, each carrying a bottle of champagne. Gladys lent Kate a dress and helped with her hair and makeup, which has resulted in Kate feeling as though she's going to a costume party. That's fine. She can see now that it's all a game, and it can be a fun game as long as you don't take it seriously. She's getting there.

It's a process, like anything else. That's another thing she's learning. When she arrived at VicMu the very first time, she thought she would wipe the slate and begin again, leave behind regrets. But you have to take things one step at a time or you can lose everything; she's lost a lot, and she's gotten a lot back.

It was so easy for Vernon to talk her out of her life at VicMu because she didn't take care to build its foundations; she jumped right in, and maybe that's what she needed at the time, but it made it so easy for him to tear down the safe space she thought she'd built. It's been more than ten years since she's felt safe to just be herself, and then it was only for half a year. This adjustment—moving home—too will be slow. But it will last much longer. She has faith in that.

Sitting on the same sofa where she admitted herself to Betty, holding a champagne flute in her hand (Gladys brought those too, of course, she likes to erase class dividers wherever possible and the girls like to pretend she can), with lively conversations bouncing around her, she feels so profoundly grateful that these people welcomed her back with open arms, after she left them behind. It occurs to her that this party is mainly in her honour and perhaps she ought to give a toast later. Or can she sing a song and call it a toast? Oh dear.

Vera arrives next, and the energy in the room immediately ratchets up ten points. Speaking of firecrackers. She hasn't changed much and that makes Kate very happy. Their life philosophies would seem diametrically opposed if they were both more conventional, but Kate admires Vera for having the self-respect and spunk to go after what she wants even if it isn't what society expects of her. Come to think of it, Kate could say the same about herself, and Betty, and Gladys, and likely also Lucy if/when she ever gets to know her.

(Will she be able to be friends with Lucy? Will she be able to spend one-on-one time with her? The idea is still very intimidating, but she has to remind herself that although so much has happened, she's only been here a week. She'll be back soon enough for good. There will be time.)

Too caught up in conversation to wonder about the sixth dinner guest, Kate is surprised to see Reggie what's-her-name from the factory stroll in, grinning ear-to-ear. She gives Betty a massive hug, followed by Lucy, and says hello to the rest.

Kate rises to be polite, offering her hand, which Reggie holds on to a moment too long as she cocks her head. "I do remember you… Haven't been around in a while, have you?" and there's a bit of posturing to it, a bit of an unspoken threat.

Looking to Betty, Kate sees that she's tensed, watching them, but she catches Kate's eye and smiles, nodding at her to go ahead.

Kate meets Reggie's eyes, refusing to let herself shrink. "I ran away for a while," she says plainly, and there's just the smallest change around Reggie's eyes, almost a flinch. "That was a mistake, and I'll be moving back for good. Very soon." She's still watching Reggie. "You ever run away from anything, Reggie?"

Somehow she still looks so much like a girl; only a handful of years younger than Kate, but she grew that shell young and it never fully formed. She drops the posture, drops Kate's hand, looks down and shrugs one shoulder non-committally.

Everyone is watching this interaction, Kate notices, and she also notices how quickly her reaction to this girl has changed. She modulates her tone—neutral, not soft—and takes a step forward. "I guess most of us have." She motions around the room and says, "Most of _us_. The important thing is knowing when you actually need to turn around and go running right back. I'm figuring that out, long as it may take." From the coffee table Kate picks up a bottle of champagne, pours a flute, and offers it to Reggie.

Watching her with new interest, Reggie hesitates a second before smirking and accepting the glass. She downs it, pours another, and holds it up in the air. "Let's get this party started! How is there not a record playing?"

The party goes back to easy laughter and loud conversations, and Kate tries to balance participating with savouring. How did she stay away for _ten years_?


End file.
